


symphonies of our hearts

by motherofangst



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cuddles, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Freeform, Plotless, Post-Battle of Scarif, Rebelcaptain - Freeform, i suck at tagging. how does this even work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 06:58:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11352231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherofangst/pseuds/motherofangst
Summary: But, something he did appreciate in these hours – something that he did not take for granted – was the presence of Jyn Erso. All of the fire, and ice, and rage that built the woman beside of him. Curled up on her side away from him – one hand loosely dangling from the bed ; strategically close to the blaster he knew was tucked near her pillow.





	symphonies of our hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! This is my first rebelcaptain fic, and I kept it kind of ... vague, I suppose? Very much a drabble, and very plotless. It's just a small idea that was floating around my head, and I felt like it was a good way to ease my toes into the fandom. The fic is unbeta'd.
> 
> If you'd like, give me some love on tumblr ; motherofangst.

It was late. Late enough that Cassian Andor knew that it was early. There was no light shining into the place that they laid their heads for the night ; but his bones could tell the hour. It was preconditioned into his very veins – tattooed against his instincts, an internal clock that ticked and drove itself on. No matter what world he might find himself in.

 

The room was not too dark – neither of them ( _them …_ it was a them ) opted to keep it too dark, on the off chance that their slumber was interrupted and they had to grab for the blaster that was always kept within easy reach. Once again, instinct learned and carved into their souls. Possibly not _born_ to fight, but definitely reared to. The both of them ; headstrong and resilient. Sometimes butting heads so hard that it ended with Cassian’s jaw taut enough to cause sharp pains down his neck, and Jyn’s eyes set as dark as the sky outside of artificial lights ; when drifting in empty space until one felt like her gaze could swallow them whole. They never did. Sometimes, Cassian imagined they would.

 

But right now, when the silence was rare and there was nothing in the wind but the soft air of the room – and both of their gentle breathing amongst their shared space, floating upwards in a harmony.

 

His body never seemed to normalize itself to peace – even if it was brief. Even if it was a reprieve between missions. Between missions together. And, worst so, between missions apart. But never once did either of them complain. The captain’s body was accustomed to the war that he had been bred into ; accustomed to the constant upheaval of any kind of safe haven, and any kind of peace of mind. This serenity – it almost made him feel _stagnant_ and restless. And that in itself made him feel guilty. As he knew that he should cherish the moments that he was not clinging to the hope of a successful mission – to the moments that he was not staring down an artificial sunset with a resigned soul. Two lonely hearts afraid to die alone ; and satisfied to die alongside someone just as restless as they.

 

But, something he did appreciate in these hours – something that he did not take for granted – was the presence of Jyn Erso. All of the fire, and ice, and rage that built the woman beside of him. Curled up on her side away from him – one hand loosely dangling from the bed ; strategically close to the blaster he knew was tucked near her pillow.     
  
But, even with the caution that she could not erase from her form – she was more vulnerable than most would ever be allowed to see. And Cassian would _never_ take for granted this fact. He understood, better than the majority would, that it was a risk to allow oneself to slip into a slumber next to another person. The amount of _trust_ that it took, to fully immerse yourself into your subconscious and allow the vulnerability of _sleep_ to overtake you – it was outrageous, and one that Cassian had never known the likes of. Before her. It was a _small_ large gift that they gave to one another.  
  
He watched as she slept – as his own mind was restless. He knew he should take advantage of the time that they had to properly recuperate ; but his thoughts never seemed to slow. And after four or five hours, he would wake up – his mind aching for something to occupy itself before the terror came. Even if there was no terror to approach.   
  
He could still discern quite a bit from the way she was laid. The way her uncoiled hair draped over the stark white of the pillow casing. The way the low lighting cast an ethereal glow across the room ; across the sheets of the cot, and across her features. The way such gave a twinge in his chest cavity unlike anything he had ever known before – or thought himself capable of. He memorized the way that her body tucked itself into the thin mattress, the way her fingers of her other hand wrapped themselves into the sheets as if looking for a hand to hold. Her barely parted lips dancing out quiet breaths into her rest.   
  
Cassian never thought himself to fall so deep ; and there was no amount of _talking himself out of it_ that could undo the harm already done. And, he was not sure that he would want to.  
  
He longed to touch, where her thin shirt had ridden up against her back and shown a sliver of skin – the blanket draped across her thighs where she had clearly grown too warm in her sleep. ( He was allowed that now, he reminded himself. But he did not want to wake her when she truly needed the rest. ) Albeit, when he shifted himself ever so slightly against the bed, he heard a small grunt from the other resident of the bed that tipped him off that she was indeed not quite asleep.   
  
So, he allowed himself to indulge in the luxury of reaching out – not longing for anything _sexual ;_ but instead longing to feel the warmth of her, the reassurance that she was truly there. And when his fingers feathered up her lower back – steady hands that were trained to shoot, trained to kill even unarmed – he was always caught awestruck at the way her body bent into his touch. By the way she seemed to melt into it like the sands would give under the first drop of water after a drought. The way any tension in her body seemed to smooth away, as hands drifted over both unmarred and scarred skin.   
  
She pressed her body back into his warmth, forcing him to move his hand so that her back could settle against his chest ; where she could likely feel the steady echo of his heart against the bone cage. And his soul felt itself soothe, tucking the stubble of his jaw into the gentle curve of her shoulder where it slotted in like a puzzle piece. Where he could let himself marvel at the fact that they had come so far – that this was his to lay down to when the stars aligned and they did not have death nipping at their heels.   
  
He nuzzled his nose against the rise of her cheek – listening to her content and weary hum ; enticing a tired smile against Cassian’s lips. A private, and warm expression that was reserved for Jyn alone – typically in barely lit rooms where the imprint of it was more of a silhouette than a clear image and one could almost think they imagined it. One could think they imagined the sparkle in Cassian’s eyes before they were slipping shut, one hand draping itself over her center so that the could keep her close. Let the warmth of her soul curl around his own until he could imagine – just for the night – that the heart beats in their chests were not separate and the entire whole of the galaxy could not keep them apart.  
  
“—go back to sleep, Jyn.”


End file.
